


The Florist

by Cassie_Bones



Series: Gay-U's [3]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: AU, Alex gets married, F/F, Florist!Maggie, Gay U, Imagine Me & You, Love at First Sight, Sanvers - Freeform, Sees Maggie, Supergay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-14 04:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9162364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassie_Bones/pseuds/Cassie_Bones
Summary: Imagine Me & You AU as part of my Gay-U's collection.Alex Danvers is probably about to make the biggest mistake of her life. She spends the moments before her wedding to one Maxwell Lord having a panic attack in her dressing room. Kara, her beloved sister, brushes it off as 'cold feet' and Alex agrees, allowing her sister to calm her and lead her to the chapel, where everybody is waiting for her. Alex expects the people. Expects her mother to be crying already in the front row. Expects her father's shiny eyes as he offers her his arm and walks her down the aisle. Expects her fiance to be standing there, smiling at her. She even expects the way dread forms a pit in her stomach.What she doesn't expect is Maggie Sawyer.





	1. Gardenias and Lillies

**Imagine Me & You**

_This is a mistake. This is a mistake. This. Is. A. Mistake._

The words repeat like a mantra in Alex Danvers' head as she paces her dressing room, kicking up the skirt of the ridiculously expensive wedding dress she's wearing. Her hands reach automatically for the top of her head to pull at her hair, before remembering the countless hours her hairdresser had spent working on her curls for the wedding.

 _The Wedding_.

The very thought of that word makes Alex's heart pound in her chest and her breath begins to shorten as she sits down, heavily, in her vanity chair. The fluffy skirt makes it almost impossible and she finds herself wanting to tear the thing off and run, naked, from the church altogether. Why is she even getting married in a church? She's Jewish. She should be in a temple or something.

"Alex?" There's a knock at her door and Alex groans, hanging her head. "Alex, it's Kara."  _Her baby sister_. "Are you okay? Everybody's waiting for you. Dad is ready to take you down the aisle." Alex doesn't answer. The door creaks open. "Alex?"

"I'm fine," Alex sighs, looking up to meet her sister's reflection in the mirror. Kara's eyebrows are knitted in concern and her lips are twisted as she eyes Alex warily. Alex offers her a half-hearted grin of amusement. "You look like a sour grape." Kara immediately frowns at that.

"You're the one that chose this color," she argues, looking down at the horrific yellow-green bridesmaid dress. It was shiny and had an empire waist and it made her look like a cartoon alien. 

"Actually," Alex laughs, standing up, "Max chose the color. And the dress. And the...everything." His money had paid for the entire affair, after all. It had saved the Danvers a fortune and Eliza had been grateful for that. She  _loves_ Max. So of course Alex had let him decide everything, from the caterers to the florist, to the shoes that are currently pinching her feet and the ridiculously feathery dress.

But now...nothing is in her control. Alex likes control-- _thrives on it_ \--but she never feels like she's in control with Max. At first, that was one of the things she'd loved about being with him. It was so relaxing to not be in control for once; to let somebody else take the reigns. He'd ordered for her on their first date and she'd loved what he chosen. He'd picked out the furniture in their first apartment and she had to admit that it was actually all very nice and comfortable and homey. So when he'd asked her to marry him, it just seemed like the next logical step. Obviously, Max knows her. He knows every part of her and he loves her, doesn't he? What reason would she have had to say no?

Other than the overwhelming panic she feels every time she thinks about this wedding and the fact that she's about to be tied down to one man for the rest of her life and  _this is a mistake_. Alex begins to hyperventilate again and Kara rushes to her side, pushing her back down to sit and forcing her head between her knees as she rubs Alex's back. 

" _Breathe_ , Alex," she says. "Just  _breathe_." Alex tries to copy Kara as she takes a deep breath in and then lets it slowly out between her lips. They do this several more times before Kara pulls her back up. "Feel better?" 

 _No._ "Yeah," Alex lies. "Yeah. I just...I think I have a bad case of cold feet, is all. I'll be fine."  _I hope_.

"You ready to go out there now?" Kara asks. "Because we could wait, if you want."

"No," Alex sighs, trying to keep her breathing even as she stands, wincing at the pinchy shoes. "I'm ready. I can do this." She frowns, looking at Kara. "I can do this, can't I?"

Her sister gives her a soft smile--all of Kara's smiles are soft, but this one in particular--and nods. "Of course you can," she says. "And I'll be right there with you."

That  _does_ give Alex a bit of comfort and she feels her shoulders relax a little bit as she hugs Kara, pressing her lips to her sister's temple. "I love you," she whispers in Kara's ear. "So much."

"I love you, too," Kara whispers back, her arms tight around Alex's waist. Kara's hugs are the best. They're the only hugs that Alex really likes, besides her parents' and, occasionally, Lucy's--but only when they've been drinking.

She doesn't like it when Max hugs her, but Alex pushes that thought aside as she squares her shoulders and pulls out of the comfort and safety of Kara's arms. "Let's do this," she says, as if about to embark on some kind of undercover operation. Kara smiles brightly at her as she takes Alex's hand and they walk out of the dressing room to meet her father and Lucy outside the chapel.

For his part, Jeremiah Danvers hadn't been too upset to find out that his firstborn daughter wouldn't be having a traditional Jewish wedding and had understood that Max was more or less agnostic. The only reason they were getting married in a church chapel, Max had reasoned, was because it had been the best wedding venue available in the city, and the most picturesque. 

Alex has to agree with that.

As she walks down the aisle, holding her silently weeping father's arm (big softy), and following along after her sister and best friend from college, Lucy Lane, she marvels at the stained glass windows and the way light filters in through them, setting the entire room aglow with colors. Max had chosen the perfect time of day for this, too, it seems; even if Alex had taken her sweet time getting here. As her eyes scan the room, Alex can see several of her family members sitting on the left side of the room. Her aunts and uncles and cousins and second cousins from both sides of her parents family. Winn Schott, her honorary little brother--who had started as Kara's best friend in high school--and James Olsen, who had his camera trained on her. He and Lucy had been a thing for a couple of years and that had been long enough to integrate him into her life before they broke up. He'd even offered to do the wedding photography for free and Max had, of course, taken him up on it.

Though Alex knows that he would have paid any price to land James Olsen as his photography was some of the best in the country. The fact that he was willing to do it for the price of cake and some fancy steak was just a bonus. 

There isn't much family on Max's side--his parents had died when he was in his early teens, leaving him to be raised by the teachers of his boarding school until his trust fund kicked in at age 17--but he has plenty of friends and business associates. Cat Grant--Kara's boss--sits in the second row on his side, a pair of oversized sunglasses and a prim smile on her face. Her hands are folded in her lap and she oozes confidence--just like Kara has always said. 

Alex's mother is in the front row, blowing her nose as she greets them and gives Alex a kiss. Alex smiles and brushes a stray tear from Eliza's cheek with the pad of her thumb. It only causes Eliza to produce more.

"Who gives this woman to this man?" the officiant asks, looking between the three of them.

Alex resists the urge to roll her eyes.

"Her mother and I do," Jeremiah tells him, squeezing Alex's hand. She forces a smile and leans in to kiss his cheek, leaving a small smudge of lipstick. He doesn't seem to mind.

Jeremiah lets go of Alex's hand and watches her ascend the two tiny steps it takes for her to be right in front of Max. She hands the bouquet of gardenias and lillies--a beautiful arrangement, she has to admit, if a bit lacking in color--to Kara and receives a blinding smile in return, before she even looks at her fiance. Max gives her that charming, ruggedly handsome smirk of his--the same smile he'd given her the day he asked for her number at Noonan's--and mouths a quick hello.

Alex feels the panic begin to rise in her throat, but forces the smile to remain on her lips as she mouths hello back and then turns to give her attention to the officiant.

"Dearly beloved..." he begins and Alex tries to keep her breathing even as she listens, half-heartedly, and her eyes resume their slow scan around the vast chapel. She runs over the list of events that Max had told her would follow the ceremony.

1\. James will take their photos. First, of their first kiss as husband and wife; a given. Second, of them with their small but intimate wedding party. Alex just has Kara and Lucy and Max just has some old buddy from college that Alex had never even met or heard of before their engagement. She assumes they're close if he's Max's Best Man. Third, a photo with their new "family"; Alex's family, mostly. Fifth, some glamour shots outside the chapel, then some inside their waiting limo, then some a few blocks away at the catering hall. Hopefully, James will tire by that time and allow them to get through the rest of the day in peace.

2\. Their reception, where they will have their first dance as husband and wife and eat dinner together and eventually shove cake in each other's faces and drink champagne (plenty of champagne) and just be  _in love_. (Because they  _are_ in love, Alex chides herself gently.  _You love this man_.) Lucy and Kara will probably get some kind of group dance song to play and tug her into it with them. They'll make fools of themselves and it will be fun because it's Lucy and Kara--her two favorite people in the whole wide world. She'll share a dance with her father and maybe one with her mother. She'll definitely dance with Kara and thank her for all her love and support, because Kara deserves to be thanked. She'll toss her bouquet and Max will toss her garter and it'll be  _so much fun_. Then they'll leave and...

3\. They'll have their wedding night.

That last part will not be Alex's favorite. She's never liked being intimate with any man--not even Max--and her fiance has understood that for the most part. They're able to exist without sex. They have their own lives and careers to keep them busy and they have an understanding that sexual intimacy is not what's important in their relationship. They're both intelligent, kind-hearted people and they can exist without it.

But it's their wedding night and there's some kind of unspoken  _contract_ on wedding nights. They'll be intimate and Alex makes sure to have plenty of champagne and make a few visits to the open bar to prepare herself. It's not like they've never had sex before, anyway; she's just always been a few drinks in when they have. It should help.

She hopes it will help.

4\. Tomorrow, they will go on their honeymoon. She's not sure where, exactly. She'd given Max the choice and told him to surprise her. He knows what she likes and knows that she's only got two weeks of paid vacation before they have to be back for work. She wants to go somewhere tropical, where she can sip fruity mixed drinks as she lounges in a hammock on the beach. Max knows that.

5\. When they return, she'll go back to work in her lab, trying to find a cure for cancer and other diseases that will expand the lifespans of so many people. Max will go back to building...whatever it is that he builds. They'll go about their daily routines and do everything they were doing before--just married. Nothing will change except her left hand will be a bit heavier.

So why is she filled with so much panic?

Her eyes flit about the room and she catches herself gazes at the exits; double doors that call her name. The painted glass seems to make them glow and Alex bites her lip, forcing her gaze elsewhere.

That's when she sees her. Standing in the back, with the other members of her staff, all of them wearing matching shirts that advertise  _Maggie's Marigolds,_ the woman is small--petite, Alex's mind suggests--and her skin is tan and she has deep dimples in her cheeks. Her deep brown eyes are trained on Alex and her head tilts a little bit to the right when they lock eyes for a moment that seems to span centuries. Alex feels heat rise in her cheeks and her heart begins to thump in her chest. Again.

But it's different this time. It's not so... _unpleasant_. She finds herself wanting to smile. She finds herself oddly...happy. Why is she suddenly so happy? 

Somebody clears their throat and Alex's head whips back to stair into the cool blue gaze of her fiance. He's tilting his head now, too, but his face is full of concern. His brows are furrowed and the pressure is suddenly back in Alex's chest and suddenly she's shaking her head because she just...

"I can't do this." It's barely above a whisper but she knows that Max hears it from the way his eyes widen. She hears Kara gasp behind her, but she doesn't turn around to see the look of confusion on her little sister's face. Instead, she starts to back down the aisle, giving Max the most apologetic look she can muster. "I'm sorry," she says. "I just...I can't." 

Then she turns and runs, as fast as her pinchy shoes can carry her, straight out the door.


	2. Violets on the Counter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex takes a ride on the back of a strange - albeit attractive - woman's bike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is really gay and I'm not sorry

“She’s gonna run.”

“What?”

Maggie Sawyer subtly leans toward her employee, keeping her voice low and a smile painted on her face. “The bride,” she clarifies. “The bride is going to run.”

M’gann furrows her brow at that, her eyes narrowing at the young woman at the end of the aisle, holding the hands of the man in front of her as they listen to the officiant speak. Her dress is fluffy and her veil reaches the middle of her back. She can’t see the woman’s face behind her curls, but she doesn’t seem in a rush to get anywhere.

“How can you tell?” M’gann asks Maggie.

“Tense shoulders,” Maggie points out. “Shifting feet. Wandering eyes.”

“I can’t even see her eyes,” M’gann whispers, craning her neck to get a better look.

Maggie nudges her away. “Quit that,” she hisses, shooting M’gann a glare. M’gann straightens up but sticks her tongue out at her, crossing her eyes. Maggie snorts, turning back to the front. Her own body tenses when she catches the deep brown eyes of the bride and suddenly, the world seems to stop turning. For a second or two, the rest of the room melts away and Maggie feels the breath freeze in her lungs as she watches a range of emotions pass through the other woman’s eyes. She can’t seem to look away.

Then somebody clears their throat and the connection is broken. Maggie lets out a slow breath as the woman rips her gaze away to look at the man in front of her. He’s giving her a look of concern and suddenly she’s shaking her head and then the Maid of Honor gasps and…

“Told you so,” Maggie whispers, nudging M’gann’s arm. M’gann snorts, shaking her head as the woman turns, grabs her skirt, and makes her getaway, passing right by them in a flurry of feathers and regret, on her way out the door. Maggie watches her retreating form for a moment, before glancing back up the aisle, where the poor groom stares after her, eyes furrowing in confusion.

 _Go after her, you idiot_ , Maggie thinks, bitterly. If she had a woman like that…

She shakes her head with a sigh and leans back towards M’gann. “Make sure we get paid,” she says, turning to slip out the door before her employee can even respond.

When she steps out into the sunlight, the first thing she sees is a limousine. It’s long and white and there are tin cans and a sign tied to the back. She shakes her head at the sloppily made ‘Just Married!’ painted on the wrinkled banner.

 _Poor guy_ , she thinks. Then she spots the bride, in all her feathery glory, a few spaces down, tinkering with her bike. Her _Triumph_. Maggie grins at the sight of the woman crouched next to it, obviously trying to find some way to hotwire the motorcycle. She saunters up to her, silent on her feet.

“You know,” she says, startling the bride. “It works a lot better with keys.” The woman whips around and her cheeks redden at the sight of Maggie, holding up the keys for her bike. Maggie lifts one brow, grinning. “Need a lift?”

The woman’s once tense shoulders suddenly relax and she looks down at Maggie like she’s her savior—which might not be too far off from the truth right now. “ _Yes_ ,” she sighs. “Please.”

Maggie nods and grabs her helmet and spare from the saddlebag, handing one to the bride. “Gather your skirt,” she says, “so it doesn’t get stuck in the wheels.” The taller woman nods and does just that as Maggie hops onto the bike and revs it up. When she feels the bride grab her around the waist, handfuls of feathery material clutched in her fists, she forgets to breathe for a second and is grateful for the helmet and the purr of the engine, which allow her to hide the reaction for a moment.

She swallows thickly, nonetheless. “Ready?” she asks.

“Go!” the bride replies, tightening her grip. Maggie nods and pulls away from the curb, taking in a deep breath as the wind cools down her heated body. She’s not wearing her leather jacket today (it hadn’t really been professionally appropriate for a wedding, after all) so there’s a chill on her bare arms where her t-shirt doesn’t reach, but she can feel heat crawling up from the place where the bride’s arms are tightened around her waist and she fights to focus on the road.

It’s not easy.

Eventually, they make it to her shop, though, and Maggie takes and even deeper breath when she parks in the alley and turns off the engine, tossing down her kickstand. The woman’s arms are still wrapped around her, even as Maggie removes the helmet and shakes out her hair. She turns to eye her over her shoulder.

“We’re here,” she informs the other woman with a small smirk. “You can let go now.”

The bride pulls her arms away as if she’s just been burned and Maggie hears a muffled, “Right!” from underneath the helmet. She chuckles and swings her leg off, leaving the woman on her bike. She can’t help but eye her up and down; she looks good on the bike. In her wedding dress—as feathery as the thing is. She wonders if the bride had been the one to pick it out, but from her discomfort, she immediately deduces that she hasn’t.

Maggie waits until the tall brunette removes the helmet from her head and clambers off the bike before she offers her hand. The bride just stares at it, blinking, for a long moment, before her eyes slowly rise to meet Maggie’s. “Let’s go get you some clothes,” Maggie explains. “I live right upstairs.”

The woman nods and takes her hand.

Maggie Sawyer has held hands with a lot of women. She’d held hands with a girl for the first time when she was four (best friend, Marnie, who’d smelled like bubble gum and had a smile like sunshine—though Maggie hadn’t been able to put that into words at the time) and then romantically when she was 12, right after she’d come out to her family. Her father hadn’t been all too thrilled with the idea of his youngest daughter being a lesbian, but her mother had all but glared him into submission. (“Well, I guess I have two other daughters I can marry off to men,” he’d said, before giving young Maggie a hug. That was probably the most acceptance she would get out of the gruff, typically close-minded Nebraskan man.) She’d had plenty of girlfriends over the years. She’d even taken a girl to prom, much to the dismay of many of the parents.

But all of them, combined, paled in comparison to what it felt like to hold this woman’s hand. Their fingers tangle together of their own accord and their palms kiss and fit together like old friends. Maggie swears she even feels tingles run up her spine, like she’s in some cheesy romantic comedy.

And she doesn’t even know this woman’s name.

“I’m Maggie, by the way,” she says, after a long moment of silence as they climb the steps to the tiny apartment above her florist shop. “Maggie Sawyer.”

“I kinda figured,” the woman replies, the slightest hint of laughter in her voice. “I’m Alex. Alex Danvers.”

“Danvers,” Maggie tries it out on her tongue and smiles. “Nice name.”

“I prefer Alex.”

“I bet you do, Danvers.” The bride huffs, but it’s not an indignant sound and Maggie can practically hear her smile.

At the landing, she regrettably lets go of her hand and fishes in her jeans for the key to her studio, easily slipping it into the lock before she reaches back for Alex’s hand and tugs her inside.

“Whoa,” Alex breathes, looking around the open space of the apartment. Maggie feels her cheeks redden.

“I know,” she says. “There are a lot of flowers, but this is basically meant for storage. I mean, obviously, we have plenty in the shop but this is where I separate specific orders. It’s easier to organize, you know?” She turns around and finds Alex less than a foot away, their hands still connected. The taller woman is still looking around the apartment at all the flowers spread about on nearly every available surface and Maggie curses herself for not tidying up before she brought a woman home.

 _You didn’t know this was going to happen_ , a voice in her head whispers in her ear. _Also, this woman just left her fiancé at the aisle. She’s not thinking about what you’re thinking about. Keep it in your pants, Sawyer!_ Maggie presses her lips together and nods, removing her hand from Alex’s grip. Now, the bride’s eyes turn to her, just as she’s walking away.

“I’m gonna get you some clothes,” she explains when Alex gives her a look of confusion. “Be right back.”

Despite it being a studio, there’s still a wall two-thirds to the back of the apartment that sections off Maggie’s “bedroom”. There’s a curtain there instead of a door, but it’s thick and heavy and Maggie is confident that it hides her as she bends almost completely in half, trying to catch her breath and run her hands through her hair.

What is wrong with her? Why is she so nervous about having this woman in her apartment? This woman who she’s supposed to be _helping_ ; not having some kind of gay panic attack over. She’s not twelve, anymore. She can be around attractive women without spazzing out. She’s done it before.

But this time feels… _different_.

Maggie shakes herself off before reaching for her dresser. Alex is taller than her and probably doesn’t fit into her jeans, but she has plenty of sweatpants that she buys in larger sizes, for comfort. And she has different sizes in shirts from her shop, just in case any of her workers happens to forget one for an event. She digs one out in a medium and grabs a pair of socks, too, before carrying them out to Alex Danvers, who’s stroking a bouquet of violets on Maggie’s counter.

“Here you go,” Maggie says and Alex jumps, turning back to her. Her cheeks are pink and she looks flustered and adorable. Maggie takes pity. “You like violets?” she asks, trying to keep the flirt out of her tone (it’s so hard).

“Oh, is that what these are?” Alex asks, looking back down at the flowers. “Yeah, they’re pretty, I guess. I was just wondering why they’re the only ones in a vase.”

“Because they’re mine,” Maggie says, with a shrug. “I always have violets in my apartment.”

_Don’t ask why. Don’t ask why. Don’t ask why._

“Why?”

_Shit._

Maggie tries to control the heat rising in her cheeks as she shrugs, nonchalantly, and offers Alex an easy, dimpled grin. “They’re pretty,” she says.

 _Yeah,_ a voice in the back of her mind agrees. _Pretty gay._

Alex smiles, though, and Maggie thinks it’s probably the most beautiful sight she’s ever witnessed. More beautiful than a thousand sunsets and sunrises and shooting stars and full moons and _god why are you so gay?_ She clears her throat and hands Alex the clothes.

“There’s a bathroom right there,” she says, pointing to a door just off the kitchen.

Alex turns and sighs in relief, before turning back to her and biting her lips. Maggie pinches her lower back to keep herself from moaning and instead gives Alex a questioning look.

“Could you possibly unzip me?” Alex asks. “It took, like, three people to get me into this thing this morning; I’m not so confident I can get myself out.”

Maggie’s mind nearly short-circuits, but she finds herself nodding and then Alex is turning, showing her the half-open back, the graceful curves of her shoulder blades and the pale, freckled skin that’s just begging to be stroked as her long, slender arms brush aside the dark tresses of her curled hair and the lacy veil. Maggie holds her breath as she reaches out and undoes the button above her zipper, then pulls down the zipper itself. She can hear Alex letting out a long, slow breath as the fabric parts and gives a little bit. She almost dies when she sees Alex lift one of her arms to catch the front of the dress.

Alex isn’t wearing a bra and Maggie feels like a perv for noticing.

The zipper ends at the base of her spine and finally Maggie lets go, taking a too-large step back as Alex turns around to thank her with a soft, shy smile. “I’ll be right back,” she says. Maggie nods, forcing a smile in return and watching her step into the bathroom. The second the door closes, however, she lets out a deep breath and moves to sit at her kitchen table, laying her head down on her arms.

She barely has enough time to raise it up again when she hears the bathroom door open.

“Hey, Maggie?” Alex asks, looking apprehensive as she continues to hold the front of her dress against her body and Maggie continues to force herself to meet her eyes.

“Yeah?” It’s strangled, but thankfully Alex doesn’t seem to notice.

“You wouldn’t mind if I took a shower, right? There’s a lot of, uhm, _stuff_ in my hair.” She waves a hand around her head, adorably, and Maggie has to fight not to fall sideways out of the chair.

“Um, sure,” she says. “G-go right ahead. There are towels under the sink.”

Alex sighs in relief and gives her a bright, sunny smile. “Thanks,” she says, ducking back into the bathroom.

“Anytime,” Maggie replies, breathily as the door clicks closed.

She waits until she can hear the water running in her shower before placing her head back down on the table. _I am literally the gayest person in the world_ , she thinks to herself, even as she attempts to ignore the fact that she currently has a very naked—and drop-dead gorgeous—runaway bride in her shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> actually, Maggie, I believe that title belongs to me. sorry


	3. Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex gets a haircut

When Alex Danvers comes out of her bathroom, she’s dressed in the clothes that Maggie had given her and Maggie honest-to-gay-jesus almost has a stroke. Because even without makeup and with her long, dripping wet hair hanging around her face and wearing loose clothes—even with all that, she looks…perfect. How is it possible that a woman could look so perfect and that such a perfect-looking woman could be standing in the threshold of her bathroom, after having just come out of the shower?

Maggie thinks back to high school, when she would have given anything to have a girl so much as look at her nerdy, gay ass (especially her ass), but was too shy and awkward to do much but smile dopily at the girls she had crushes on, and now she has a goddess standing right before her and she’s of course _straight_ and just ran away from her husband, so she’s probably also incredibly vulnerable and why is this her life?

“Feel better?” she asks, finding her more confident, inner-college era Maggie (back when she was a stud on campus and hooked up with the hot, nerdy girls in her dorm room and didn’t nearly swallow her tongue when talking to them; seriously, what _is it_ about this woman?) and giving her a friendly, and somewhat charming, grin. She pats herself on the back when the straight, tall, _impossibly gorgeous_ woman smiles shyly back at her and nods.

“Much better,” Alex sighs, dropping her wedding dress on the floor right outside the bathroom. “Thanks.” She stares down at the pool of fabric and feathers and lace. The veil must be mixed in there somewhere, Maggie surmises, because she didn’t put it back on her head (and why would she? It looked hideous, honestly; so not complimentary for her face shape), and her hair is starting to make loose curls as it dries. Which makes her even more attractive.

Fantastic.

“Anything I can get for you?” Maggie asks, trying to distract herself from her painfully obvious gay crush on this obviously straight woman. “Water? Something to eat? A ride home?”

“Do you have scissors?”

“Scissors?” Maggie shoos her mind away from the gutter as she watches Alex study the dress on the floor, and then her eyes are widening and she’s shaking her head and stepping forward. “Oh, no. No, no, no, you don’t wanna do that,” she says. “That dress is…is horrible,” she says. “And feathery and so…yuck. But you don’t want to chop it up, alright? You could sell it. It looks like it’s probably some kind of designer brand and you could probably get a lot of money for it if—”

“I don’t want them for the dress,” Alex interrupts, looking up to meet Maggie’s eyes. She’s smirking, her brown eyes sparkling a little and Maggie has to continue to fight to keep her composure.

“Then what do you want scissors for?” she asks, hoping that her voice doesn’t come out too strangled or like she’s a goddamn teenage boy.

“For my hair,” Alex replies, casually, as if it’s most simple and normal thing in the world.

“Your…your hair?” Maggie asks. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s too long,” Alex replies, furrowing her brows and Maggie can practically hear the ‘ _duh_ ’ in her inflection.

“So you’re going to cut it…right now? Right here? In my apartment?”

“Well, actually,” Alex replies, “I was hoping…”

Maggie’s eyes widen immediately and she shakes her head. “No, no, no,” she says. “I…I couldn’t. I mean, what if I mess it up?”

“You won’t,” Alex assures her. “You couldn’t possibly mess it up.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I…I don’t really have anything in mind for it,” Alex admits. “I just want to look… _different_.”

“Why would you want to do that?” It’s out of her mouth before Maggie even realizes she’s parted her lips and she immediately clamps them shut when Alex looks over at her. Maggie feels her face heat up and she almost chokes on her own saliva as she swallows and clears her throat. “I mean…why would cutting your hair make you look different? Your face will still be the same.”

Alex snorts at that. “My face has pretty much always looked this way,” she says. “Since I was a teenager and all the cartilage that made me look all soft and squishy hardened into bone, my face has looked like this. Since before I met Max, my face looked like this. But my hair…my hair was shorter before I met him. I never liked long hair before I met Max. As a kid, I used to purposely get bubble gum stuck in it so that my parents would be forced to get me a haircut. Then I learned that you can get peanut butter out and my mom always knew that, but she would cut my hair because she knew that’s what I wanted and I was just…too nervous to ask.”

“Why would you be too nervous to ask?” Maggie asks, even as she makes her way into the kitchen and pulls a pair of scissors out of a drawer. She might as well help this woman out, lest she decide to cut her own hair and let it go to shit.

“I…I can’t remember,” Alex admits, smiling in thanks as Maggie pulls a stool from the kitchen island and instructs her to sit on it. “It probably has something to do with Kara.”

“Friend from school?” Maggie guesses.

“My sister,” Alex informs her. “My parents adopted her when I was fourteen. She was twelve; her parents died in a fire.”

“Tough life for a twelve-year-old.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees. “When she first arrived, my parents tried to give her all this attention. They made sure that she knew that she was loved and wanted and tried to make her feel as normal as possible. And I…”

“Got pushed aside?”

“Not really. I mean, I was a teen already, so it was nice that they weren’t always in my business, but I started asking for less and less as they gave her more. My hair would grow longer and it’d be annoying because I’d have to tie it up when I looked into microscopes and—oh, I’m a scientist, by the way. I work in this bio lab with my mother uptown. We are actively trying to find the cure to cancer.”

“Impressive,” Maggie comments and her heart trips again. It’s possible that this woman—this perfect, gorgeous, nerdy, somewhat selfless woman—could win a Nobel Prize. And she’s somehow found her way into Maggie Sawyer’s apartment. What the hell?

“Don’t be too impressed with us,” Alex chuckles. “Two years of splicing DNA and we’ve still got nothing.”

“Hey, I make flower arrangements for a living,” Maggie points out. “You’re closer to finding a cure than I am.” She makes her way to the bathroom and grabs a towel from the rack, bringing it back to cover Alex’s shoulders. The other woman is smiling shyly as she looks down and Maggie feels herself gain a little confidence—though, at the same time, she admires the slope of Alex’s nose and the way her hair curtains around her head. She would love to run her fingers through it, just once…

“Anyway,” Alex continues, startling Maggie slightly. “My hair was the only thing I felt I could truly control and I still didn’t know if my parents would have really paid attention if it wasn’t, like, an emergency, you know? After all, a haircut can wait, but not if there’s gum stuck somewhere it shouldn’t be.”

“So you stuck it in your hair,” Maggie says, with a smirk. “You really are a genius.”

Alex huffs and it comes out sounding more like a snort and Maggie falls a bit harder than she’ll ever admit just for that sound. “Just hush and start cutting,” Alex says.

“As you wish,” Maggie replies, praying that she won’t get the reference, because it honestly just slipped out and she does not want this woman running out on her or freaking out while she has scissors held up to her hair. Thankfully, Alex does neither and Maggie begins to measure the hair between her fingers, trying to imitate what she remembers her Aunt Ellen doing at her salon back in Blue Springs. She’d cut hair for everybody in the family and Maggie used to watch, fascinated.

She was a weird child.

“What length do you want it?” Maggie asks, starting on the left side. “Shoulder? Ears? Pixie?”

“Not a pixie,” Alex says. “And a little below the ears, I guess. It never quite touched my shoulders when I could help it, but it was never that short either. Just shorter than this.”

“Understood,” Maggie says as she chooses a length halfway between Alex’s ear and her shoulder and cautiously opens her scissors around it, opening them as she holds the hair taught and takes a deep breath. “And you’re sure about this?” she asks, one last time. “Because I don’t want you getting upset with me if it doesn’t turn out so nice.”

“It’s just hair,” Alex says. “It’ll grow back. Besides, I trust you not to screw it up.”

Maggie pauses for another moment at that. _I trust you_. She’s literally just met this woman and already she’s helped her run out on her wedding, gave her a ride on her motorcycle, let her into her apartment and let her use her shower, and now she’s giving her a haircut and the idea that she _trusts_ her so implicitly never even crossed her mind. She trusts a stranger whose name she didn’t know three hours ago. She trusts her with something she’s just admitted was the only thing she’d felt in control of when she was a kid. The only thing that made her feel like…like her.

Incredible. It’s not nearly the right word to describe this woman, but that’s all that Maggie’s mind can come up right now.

She takes another deep breath and holds Alex’s too-long hair taught as she closes the scissors, listening to the strangely satisfying _ssssnip_ as it cuts cleanly through the lock of hair. Dark brown strands drop in a clump to the floor and Maggie lets out her breath. Okay, she can do this now.

“Why did you let it get so long now?” she asks, trying to keep the conversation light as she continues to cut this near-stranger’s hair. This is what hairdressers do every day, anyway, isn’t it? Her aunt had always carried on conversations with her clients. It supposedly kept them calm.

“Max liked it long,” Alex answers, her tone simple and a little sad. “When I would tell him that I was thinking of getting it cut, he would tell me that I looked beautiful, just the way I was, so I just…wouldn’t. I’d let it grow. I missed hair appointments because he liked to run his hands through my hair—my _long ­_ hair—and play with it. I didn’t want to disappoint him so I kept it this way.”

“You grew out your hair…for a guy? Even though it made you unhappy? You must really have loved him.”

Alex takes a deep breath and Maggie pauses as she feels the hair move with her. She waits until Alex’s shoulders have settled before she makes the next snip, making sure to keep it nice and even.

“No,” she says, but doesn’t continue. Maggie cuts off another lock, waiting for her to go on. She doesn’t. A full minute passes and Maggie’s nearly completely done with half of her head. It doesn’t look too bad.

“No?” she asks, finally.

“No,” Alex agrees. “I don’t think I ever loved Max. Not…not like that.”

“Then why did you agree to marry him in the first place?” Maggie asks, before she can stop herself. “Wait, I’m sorry. That’s…that’s a really rude and invasive question. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Alex assures her. “I…I’ve actually been asking myself that question for a while now. Since he proposed practically. I just didn’t realize that it wasn’t about having cold feet as much as it was about my…my inability to love anybody. Romantically, I mean.”

“You’re aromantic?” Maggie asks, continuing to gently and carefully cut her hair.

“I think that’s the term for it,” Alex sighs. “I always fought it. I always thought that I just hadn’t met the right guy, that it would happen in time, you know? And I thought Max was…he was perfect. He _is_ perfect. He’s charming and good-looking and intelligent and any woman would be lucky to have him as her husband.”

“Any woman but you?” Maggie asks, softly.

“I just don’t think I’m capable of that kind of relationship,” Alex admits. “I tried. I tried so damn hard, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t make myself love him the way he deserves to be loved. And I know that he loves me…so damn much. I really shouldn’t have let it get this far.”

“It’s not your fault, Alex,” Maggie says, pausing for a moment to lay her hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll see that.” She feels Alex shiver beneath her fingers and something clicks in Maggie’s brain as she takes her hand back and continues with her hair. She won’t bring it up right now; she doesn’t want to risk freaking the taller woman out right now. But she makes a note to ask her about it later. “Almost done,” she says. Alex nods subtly, her head barely moving as Maggie snips off another inch.

They’re silent for another couple of moments as Maggie levels her hair and makes sure that there’s no piece sticking out that’s too long or too short. For the most part, she did a pretty good job. There are some choppy places, but it’s fine. And she’s certain that Alex Danvers would look good no matter what, anyhow.

“All done,” she says, putting the scissors down on the counter and removing the towel. She brushes stray pieces of hair from Alex’s shoulders and runs her fingers through the bob she’s just crafted—telling both Alex and herself that it’s to get rid of anymore loose strands—before grabbing her broom and dust pan from the closet. “Go ahead and have a look while I tidy up.”

Alex nods and gets to her feet, padding into the bathroom as she runs her fingers through her new, short hair. Maggie watches out of the corner of her eye as she sweeps up the hair on the floor. Alex pauses in front of the mirror and her eyes widen and her mouth gapes and she lets out a little gasp as she runs her hands almost obsessively through her hair. Her hands touch her shoulders, as if expecting to feel the weight of what used to be there, but they catch nothing but the fabric of her t-shirt. Maggie frowns, worried that Alex _is_ regretting the haircut and she avoids the woman’s eyes as she turns back to her, pretending to focus on her task. She’s already swept up all the hair, so there’s nothing to distract her from the way Alex marches towards her and there’s already and apology forming on her lips as she straightens up, but then Alex is pulling her forward and wrapping her arms around her and then Maggie’s face is pressed against the taller woman’s shoulders, her arms held out at an awkward angle, still holding the broom in one hand while the dustpan sits, abandoned, on the floor by their feet.

Suddenly, Alex Danvers is hugging Maggie Sawyer, arms banded tightly around her, nose buried in her hair, holding on almost desperately. “Thank you,” Alex sighs, her voice filled with so much reverence and genuine gratefulness that Maggie feels the broom slip from her hand as she hugs Alex Danvers back. She doesn’t say anything, though; she just allows herself to bask in the warmth and softness of this woman’s body, and in the vanilla scent of her own shampoo in her new, shorter hair.

It’s so _nice_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you can see how this is different than the movie? It will probably be one of the 24 hour things, where everything happens over the course of a day. Stay tuned for the Gay.


	4. Glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex comes to a realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a hint as to what my next Gay-U will be. Can you take a guess at what it is?

Maggie Sawyer feels warm in her arms. Warm and soft and _right_. So right. It’s like she was made to fit under Alex’s chin; like she was made to press her nose into the curve of Alex’s shoulder and wrap her arms around Alex’s waist. It was like she was made to fit so perfectly against Alex’s body. So perfectly that Alex found herself reluctant to let go.

But, eventually, hugs must end. Otherwise, it gets weird and Alex doesn’t want it to get weird and it doesn’t _feel_ weird when she hugs her for so long, but she’s certain that Maggie will start to feel a little weird and she just doesn’t want Maggie to feel weird, because then things will get weird and Alex will have to leave and _okay she should really let her go now._

Alex loosens her hold on the shorter woman and slowly steps back, feeling her cheeks fill with heat as she smiles shyly down at Maggie Sawyer, who gives her a dimpled grin right back.

“Thank you,” she says and Maggie chuckles.

“You said that, already,” Maggie reminds her and Alex’s blush deepens.

“Well, I’m really thankful,” she jokes. Suddenly, her stomach makes a loud noise, almost like she’d eaten a live lion just minutes earlier. She clears her throat. “And starving,” she adds, embarrassed. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you for something to eat?”

“I’m too afraid to say no, lest you eat me.” Maggie laughs at herself as she turns away, but Alex finds herself blushing even harder, pressing her lips together as she tries to shake off strange thoughts niggling at the back of her mind. Her heart thumps in her chest and she clears her throat, turning her attention to the violets on the counter.

They’re strangely beautiful flowers and they remind her of the poem that she’d once written on the inside of her Valentine’s Day cards in the third grade:

 _“Roses are red;_  
Violets are blue.  
Sugar is sweet  
and so are you.”

It was such a corny, childish poem, but it had made her smile. Especially when Vicki Donahue, her best friend at the time, had read it and given Alex a tight hug. And a kiss on the cheek.

Little Alex Danvers had been a stuttering mess after that kiss and she couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out why. Or why, when she’d kissed Jacob Watson two weeks later under the slide, she had felt nothing but the urge to wipe the feeling of his lips off hers.

Alex shakes her head at the thought of Vicki Donahue. She hasn’t thought about Vicki since high school, when the two had some strange falling out. Alex didn’t even remember what had brought it about. She just remembered constant bickering that escalating into full on screaming matches in Alex’s bedroom until Vicki had grabbed her things and walked out of her house—for good.

Alex remembers crying in her bed that night while Kara held her, rubbing her back as she sobbed. She remembers the devastation that came with losing your best friend at such a young age. She remembers wanting to walk up to Vicki the next day and apologize and beg for her forgiveness.

She can’t remember why she didn’t.

She turns away from the violets as Maggie clambers away at the stove, pulling out pans and cookie sheets and placing four slices of cold pizza on a tray, sliding it into the oven and turning it on. She turns to look back at Alex and gives her a smile. “Think you can wait a couple minutes for it to heat up?” she asks.

“I would’ve eaten it cold,” Alex tells her, clearing the thoughts from her mind as she attempts to focus on the task at hand, smiling gently at Maggie. “But I think I can wait.” Her stomach lets out another growl and her eyes widen. “Her, on the other hand…”

“Your stomach is a girl?”

“I’m a girl, aren’t I?” Alex points out. “Also, her name is Kara.”

Maggie furrows her brow. “I thought your sister’s name was Kara.”

“It is,” Alex confirms. “If you knew my sister, you’d understand.”

Maggie snorts. “Well, Kara will have food very soon. Does she also want something to drink?”

“That would be…great,” Alex sighs. “Do you have anything alcoholic?”

“Sadly, no,” Maggie tells her. “But I do have pink lemonade.” At Alex’s raised eyebrow, she furrows her brow. “What? I like it?”

“Okay, but you know it’s just regular lemonade with food coloring in it, right?”

“So?” Maggie asks, opening her fridge and reaching in for the clear pitcher, tugging it out and brandishing it above her head. “It’s pretty, okay?”

Alex snorts, shaking her head. “You’re adorable.” The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them and suddenly she’s blushing again while Maggie grins at her, dimples popping in her cheeks while she bats her eyelashes, teasingly.

“You really think so?” Maggie coos at her and Alex rolls her eyes, turning her head away.

“Shut up,” she grumbles, walking into the living room and picking up the remote. “Mind if I turn on the TV?” she asks.

“Not at all,” Maggie replies. “See if there’s any good movies playing. Or TV shows. There should be some _Grey’s_ reruns…I mean, if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“ _Grey’s Anatomy_?” Alex asks, looking over the back of the couch at her companion. “Isn’t it just a bunch of doctors having sex in the on-call room and then dying?”

“That’s only, like, _sixty percent_ of what it is,” Maggie huffs, pouring them each a glass of the ‘pretty’ pink lemonade. “It’s actually pretty medically accurate—as far as I can tell, anyway. I’m not a doctor.” She pads over to the couch, handing Alex one of the glasses as she climbs over the back, plopping down on the adjacent seat cushion, careful not to spill her own drink. “Maybe you can let me know if it is, though.” She snatches the remote and flips through the channels until she reaches something that makes her smirk. “ _Yes_ ,” she hisses. “I love this one.”

Alex turns her attention to the screen, where two women are lying in bed together, smiling and laughing and talking about how _amazing_ “it” was. Alex’s eyes widen and she finds herself leaning forward the more they talk. The brunette stands from the bed and continues talking to her… _companion_ , even as the blonde goes on and on about something. Something that gets Alex’s attention almost immediately.

_“My whole life. My whole adult life, I have been with men!”_

Alex listens, her ears perking up at that. This woman on the screen in front of her—the one that obviously just had… _relations_ with another woman—is talking about men. In bed. After just having _relations_. With a _woman_.

“ _And it always felt, you know, fine._ Good _. But, I never…”_

The woman breaks off, laughing and shaking her head as her expression turns to one of utter elation. She’s smiling so brightly and happily and Alex can see tears swimming in her eyes.

_“I mean, I did, but…not…not like this.”_

She laughs again and Alex takes a sip of her lemonade because suddenly her mouth is dry and she can’t take her eyes off the screen. Even when she hears Maggie speak up next to her.

“This is such a good speech,” she whispers. “And so accurate. Listen.”

Oh, Alex is listening.

“ _This is like…needing glasses.”_ Alex’s brow furrows at that and she tilts her head. _“When I was a kid, I would get these headaches and when I went to the doctor, they said I needed glasses. I didn’t understand that and it didn’t make sense to me, because I could see_ fine. _And then I get the glasses and I put them on and I’m in the car on the way home and, suddenly, I yell.”_ Alex lowers the glass to the table, because suddenly she doesn’t think she can hold it anymore, because suddenly she understands where this is going and suddenly she wants to run. But she doesn’t. Because she can’t move and she can’t look anywhere but at the television screen, at the blonde’s face.

 _“Because the big green blobs that I’ve been staring at my whole life—they weren’t big green blobs! They were leaves! On trees! I could see the leaves. And I didn’t even know I was missing the leaves! I didn’t even know that leaves existed!_ ” Suddenly, Alex can’t breathe, but she still can’t move, either. _“And then…leaves!”_ The woman pauses, her gaze—so open and affectionate and iridescently happy—on the other woman. _“_ You _are leaves.”_ She pauses again, laughs. _“I am so gay.”_

Maggie chuckles next to her, shaking her head. “Such a great scene,” she murmurs and then Alex can feel Maggie’s gaze on the side of her face and she’s suddenly standing up.

“Excuse me,” she says, almost breathless as she practically sprints across the apartment, disappearing into the bathroom before Maggie can even respond. She pulls the door shut behind her and hears Maggie say something, but she can’t exactly make it out through the wood of the door. She turns to look at her reflection in the mirror, studying every piece of hair, every fleck of gold in her brown eyes, every freckle on her cheeks, the wrinkle of her nose and the purse of her lips and the curve of her shoulders and the shape of her face…just everything that makes her _Alex_.

 _Alexandra Danvers_. Doctor. Daughter. Sister. Fiancée—well, _ex_ -fiancée. 28 years old. She loved horror movies and science fiction. She hated avocado and she was allergic to eggs. She used to stick gum in her hair so that she could get it cut short. She wrote poems in Valentine’s Day cards and felt happiest when her best friend hugged her. She lost that best friend because she picked a fight with her over something stupid. Because she realized one day that liked sleeping in the same bed. Because she realized one day that she wanted to lean forward and kiss her best friend on the mouth. Because she realized one day that she might not be completely…normal.

And she had pushed it all down. And she had met a man and dated that man and got engaged to that man and…and this morning she had run out on that man at the aisle because she was certain that she was incapable of loving that man, the same way she thought she was incapable of loving _any_ man or _anybody_ at all, really. But now she’s doubting that. Now she’s doubting everything she though she knew. Now she’s doubting if she even likes horror movies or science fiction.

Now she wonders if maybe she _does_ like avocado, if her allergy to eggs was just a fluke, if short hair is really _her thing_. She wonders if she needs to start wearing glasses, so that she can see herself better.

A knock on the door startles Alex and she jumps, pressing her hand to her heart and biting her lip as she turns to it. “Y-yes?” she calls out.

“Pizza’s ready,” Maggie says, her voice a bit cautious. “I know you’re having kind of a freak out or something in there, but I can hear your stomach growling from, like, ten feet away, so, um, can we talk about it or something? Over pizza, so you don’t starve?”

A chuckle escapes Alex’s lips before she can stop it and she looks down, smiling at her bare feet. Her toes curl on the cold tile, but she feels warm everywhere else in her body. She feels a flutter in her chest and a flush in her cheeks and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as a shiver runs down her spine. She feels… _happy_.

And she doesn’t know exactly why, but she knows that Maggie Sawyer has _something_ to do with it.

“Danvers? Are you okay in there?”

Alex looks at herself in the mirror and memorizes the freckles on her cheeks and the scrunch of her nose and the gold flecks in her brown eyes. She’s Alex Danvers. She’s a daughter and a sister and a doctor. She’s 28 years old.

She can do this.

She opens the door and forces a smile as she comes face to face with Maggie Sawyer, who makes the flutters in her chest intensify and her lips instinctively turn up as the happiness floods her entire body. She swallows thickly and tries to remember how to breathe.

“Hey,” she says. “Can I ask you a question?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love that scene. I relate to it both a a gay woman and somebody who needed glasses at age 3.


	5. Catching Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex comes to a realization and makes a call

“Are you gay?”

The question throws Maggie so off-guard that she almost chokes on her first bite of pizza and she has to take a long sip of lemonade to clear her throat.

“I’m sorry?” she asks and Alex hunches her shoulders in embarrassment, giving her an adorable smile. Her cheeks are puffy with her own big bites of food (she had wasted no time in shoving half the slice in her mouth) and she grabs a napkin from the center of the table placing it over her mouth.

“Sorry,” she says. “I just—” she swallows, coughing into the napkin. “Ahem, I just remembering you saying how, um, _accurate_ that Grey’s scene was and I just…well, _are you_?”

“Am I…gay?” Maggie asks, as soon as the chunk of cheese and pepperoni has dislodged from her windpipe and slides down her esophagus. “I’m _ecstatic_!” She grins and laughs when Alex balls up her napkin and throws it at Maggie’s face. “Okay,” she says. “But, seriously? Yeah, I’m gay. I’m, like, _super_ gay.”

“Super gay?” Alex asks, feeling her breathing start to get shallow. “Um, okay, so then you’ve…you’ve been with girls. L-like you’ve _dated_ girls, I mean. You’ve, um, _kissed_ girls?”

“Uh…yeah,” Maggie says. “That’s pretty much what that means—though not necessarily. I mean, I’ve known I was gay since I was, like, twelve. I kissed my first girl less than a month after I came out. I’ve dated girls and kissed girls and…you know.” She flushes, nibbling at her pizza. “So, uh, yeah, I’ve done all of that. Why—why do you ask?”

Alex is silent for a long time, considering her question. She eats her pizza slowly, taking sips of pink lemonade intermittently, chewing and swallowing and thinking. Then she wipes her mouth with the napkin and pushes her plate away, leaning back in her chair. “How did you know?” she asks, finally.

“That I was gay?” Maggie asks. Alex nods. “Wow, I, uh…I don’t know.” She takes a deep breath, the hair fluttering in front of her eyes. “I never liked boys. Not really.” She thinks for a moment and then laughs. “I thought I had a crush on this kid in second grade. His name was Kennedy. I followed him around the playground for three days, just thinking that I liked him, but then I realized that I didn’t like _him._ I liked the toy truck he brought to school with him every day. When it broke, I stopped following him.” She snorts and shakes her head. “I had a couple more crushes like that, but it wasn’t until I was in middle school that I realized…well, I don’t like boys at all.” She shrugs, taking another sip of her lemonade. “It’s like being splashed with cold water, straight in the face; it kinda wakes you up, you know?”

Alex is nodding before she even knows that she’s doing it. She stops and bites her lip. “Um…what does it feel like?”

“What does _what_ feel like?” Maggie asks, taking another bite of her pizza. Alex looks away, biting her lip and Maggie furrows her brow, placing the slice back down on her plate. “Danvers, are you okay?”

“I-I’m…confused,” Alex says, running her hand through her hair. She stands and starts to pace. It’s what she’s always done, whenever she’s nervous about something. She paces and tries to work out whatever’s on her mind. “I’m just…I’m so confused.”

“Confused about what?” Maggie asks, her eyes following the other woman.

“So many things,” Alex sighs, her eyes widening for a moment. “I mean, last week I was waking up in bed with the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. His arms were around me and all I could think about was STEM cell research and micro-organisms and which slides I was going to have to look at when I got to work. I mean, you’re not supposed to be thinking about bacteria when you’re in the arms of the man you’re about the spend the rest of your life with, right?” She looks to Maggie, who nods on cue. “And it kind of reminds me of when I was a kid. At sleepovers. I used to _love_ sleepovers. I used to love cuddling with my friends and falling asleep in their beds and waking up with our legs entwined and I just…” She flushes, shaking her head and rubbing her temples with her fingers. “I never realized how much I liked it until I… _didn’t_.” She takes a deep breath. “Even then, it took me _years_ to realize it. Years to realize that I’m…” She trails off and laughs, humorlessly. “Some genius doctor I am.”

“Hey,” Maggie says, softly, standing and blocking her path. She places her hands on Alex’s shoulders, causing the taller woman to stop. “Everybody moves at their own pace, okay? Just because _I_ figured it out when I was twelve years old, doesn’t mean every person does, okay?” Alex looks down at her shoes and Maggie squeezes her shoulders. “ _Okay_?” she says, again, searching her eyes. Alex nods, giving her a small smile.

“Okay,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. Maggie reflects her smile, the dimples in her cheeks deepening as she stares up into Alex’s eyes. Alex stares back, her eyes going soft and her smile widening as she feels her face grow closer to Maggie’s, feels the tips of their noses brush and the ghost of Maggie’s breath on her lips. Maggie’s hands tighten on her shoulders and Alex lets out a soft gasp and swallows thickly, leaning in a little bit, before she suddenly steps back and runs her hands through her hair and turns completely away from Maggie, clearing her throat.

“C-can I borrow your phone?” Alex asks, still facing away.

Maggie watches her with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, breathing bit more shallowly than before. “S-sure,” she says, sliding it out of her pocket. She holds it out to Alex, but the other woman still hasn’t turned back to her. “Here,” she says, gaining Alex’s attention. Alex barely glances at her as she turns to take the phone.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, tapping in a number. “Excuse me.” She places the phone to her ear and gives Maggie a quirk of the lips as she makes her way to the bathroom. Maggie watches her with barely restrained longing, her heart hammering in her chest.

* * *

  _“Where have you been?”_

Alex pulls the phone away from her ear when Kara’s voice—her very loud voice—filters through the earpiece. She lets her sister yell and vent for a minute before she places the phone back to her ear. “You done?” she asks.

 _“Am I DONE?”_ Alex sighs and lets Kara yell for a couple more moments, rolling her eyes as she goes over all the _worrying_ and the _panicking_ and the _explaining_ she has done in the last few hours. Alex can practically see her, probably still in her bridesmaid dress, pacing back and forth—something she so obviously picked up from Alex—and yelling into her phone. She’s probably waving her bouquet all around, too.

“Kara,” Alex sighs, keeping the phone about an inch away from her ear as her sister continues to rant. “Kara!” Suddenly the line goes silent and then she can hear her younger sister’s huff. “You done yet? I have…a _lot_ to tell you.”

Kara is silent for another moment. _“Go on,”_ she says, finally, with a sigh.

“Okay.” Alex takes a deep breath. “Well, first thing’s first; I’m _fine_. So you can stop panicking and you can call off whatever search party you’ve sent out to look for me, okay. I’m with…a friend.”

 _“What friend?”_ Kara asks. _“All your friends were at your wedding! And you weren’t!”_

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Alex sighs, leaning back. She’s in the bathtub in Maggie Sawyer’s bathroom, attempting to get as far away from her as possible—and the stupid feelings she gives her. “I’ve been dealing with some stuff.”

 _“What kind of stuff?”_ Her sister’s voice is quieter now; calmer.

“Personal stuff,” Alex sighs. “ _Complicated_ stuff.” She takes a deep breath. “Confusing stuff.”

 _“I’m listening,”_ Kara says.

“Are you alone?” Alex asks.

_“Yeah. I’m back at my apartment, actually. Still in my dress. Eating your wedding cake.”_

“Seriously?” Alex snickers. “Did you just take the whole thing home with you?”

 _“It was already here,”_ Kara informs her. _“The caterers were keeping it in my fridge because the kitchen at the catering hall was full of mini-quiches and kebabs and all that other stuff Max ordered for your after party—which never happened! Why did you run out on him, Alex? He has such great taste in food.”_ Alex can hear her fork scraping against a plate as she scoops more cake. She sighs.

“I know,” she says. “But, Kara, I…I didn’t…” she takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t love him. Not the way he deserves to be loved.” She feels tears form in the corners of her eyes and she swipes angrily at them. “I wish I did, though. I wish I could.”

Kara is silent for a long moment. _“Why…why can’t you?”_

Alex bites her lip and looks down at her knees, at the borrowed sweatpants she’s wearing, and down her chest at the floral shop shirt she’s wearing and, at the other end of the tub at the fuzzy socks on her feet. The borrowed clothes make her grin and she wiggles her toes as she sniffles and thumbs a stray tear from her cheek.

“Because,” Alex says, her voice choking up a little bit. She takes a deep breath. “Because I’m…” She presses her lips together and sniffles again, not quite sure how to say this. Because it’s Kara and Kara is her baby sister and she’s always been able to tell her everything and anything. And she wants to tell her this, but she’s _terrified_. Because it’s Kara and she cannot handle Kara being disappointed with her. Not right now and not ever.

 _“Alex,”_ Kara urges. _“What is it?”_

“I-I can’t,” Alex chokes.

 _“Alex, please_ , _”_ Kara sighs and Alex can hear her voice breaking. _“Please just…tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll help you.”_ Kara takes a deep breath. _“I’m here for you. You know that.”_

“I know,” Alex says, wiping at her eyes. “I know. I just…this is big, Kara. It’s really big and I don’t…it’s just really big.”

 _“Take your time, then,”_ Kara says, softly. _“I’m right here.”_

Alex is thankful for that. She’s always been thankful for Kara. Even when she resented Kara, she was thankful for her. She was the sister that Alex had always wanted. They stayed up late nights talking. She told all her secrets to Kara and Kara told all her secrets to Alex. Kara always cheered for Alex when she pitched for softball and played soccer and Alex suffered through Kara’s romantic comedies and intimidated whatever boys Kara brought home.

No matter what, Kara is always there. And Alex is always there. And they’re _always_ there for each other. No matter what.

“I’m gay,” Alex says, at long last and Maggie was right; it feels like she’s been splashed with cold water. But it’s not only in the face. It feels like a bucket of ice cold water has just been dumped all over her body and she has to check the faucet to make sure that the tap isn’t turned on. It’s off and the porcelain under her body is just as dry as it’s been the last fifteen minutes. Kara is silent on the other line and she begins to panic. “I-I-I mean, I _think_ I am. I…when I was standing at the end of the aisle w-with Max, I j-j-just saw this woman and I h-had this feeling and suddenly I couldn’t do it. I c-couldn’t marry him! Because I just—I didn’t love him. And I didn’t really understand why. Not until I was on the back of th-this woman’s motorcycle. And not even then! Not really. I mean, I felt _some_ thing, but I couldn’t really name it until I got to her place! W-we were watching this show—this _medical_ show—and there was a scene and I just kinda realized…” She trails off, listening for Kara’s voice, because she’s never known her sister to be silent for this long. She takes a deep breath. “A-and I’m here at this woman’s house and _she’s_ gay and I…” she lowers her voice, “I think I might like her. Like…like _a lot_.” She swallows thickly, feeling more tears fall from her eyes. “And I need you to be okay with this. Okay, Kara? Because, I don’t know what I’d do if you were disappointed in me. I don’t think I could survive it.” Her voice breaks and she swipes at her nose and sniffles.

_“I could never be disappointed in you.”_

Alex takes a deep breath, her entire body relaxing. She smiles, her chin quivering. “Really?” she asks.

 _“Of course,”_ Kara assures her. _“Alex, I love you no matter what. You’re my big sister and you’ve always been there for me. Why wouldn’t I be there for you? And this is not like bad, anyway. It’s not like you killed anybody, right? You just…you fell in love. I mean, that’s beautiful, isn’t it? Why wouldn’t I support something like that?”_

“I don’t know,” Alex sighs, feeling suddenly lighter as her lips stretch wide. “I just…stuff like this isn’t always the easiest to accept. And I know— _I know_ —that you love pretty much everybody.”

 _“Especially you_. _”_

Alex laughs. “Especially me,” she concedes. “I just…it was pretty hard to admit to myself. It’s even harder to admit to others, I think. I should’ve…I should’ve _known_ that you would be okay with it. I’m sorry, Kara, I just—”

 _“Hey, no,”_ Kara sighs. _“This isn’t about me. This is about you. You deserve for this to be completely and entirely about_ you _. Our whole life…everything has always been about me and that was unfair to you. And I’m so,_ so _sorry about that. So let this be about you, okay?”_ She takes a deep breath. _“And tell me about this woman that rescued you_. _”_

Alex chuckles and shakes her head, grinning. “Her name is Maggie,” she informs Kara.

 _“Ooh, that’s a cute name,”_ Kara coos and Alex laughs, again. _“Where did you meet this Maggie?”_

“At my wedding,” Alex says. “Max hired her to be our florist.”

_“Well that’s complicated. And awkward.”_

“Yeah,” Alex sighs. “It really is.”

_“Tell me more, though. You said she has a motorcycle? That’s pretty hot…isn’t it?”_

Alex laughs. “Yeah,” she says. “It’s hot. She’s pretty hot.” She lowers her voice at that. “She’s beautiful, actually. And funny. And kind. And…god, I just like her so much, Kara.”

_“And she’s gay, too, right?”_

“Yes…”

_“And have you…you know…?”_

“Ew, Kara, no! Stop that! We just met!”

_“Alex, you ran out on your fiancée because of this woman. On the day of your wedding, no less! And you’re telling me you didn’t…you know.”_

“I don’t even think _you_ know what you’re referring to,” Alex huffs, then laughs. “And no. We’re…just friends. I don’t even think she likes me that way. She was just helping out some poor girl she feels sorry for, that’s all.”

_“Are you sure?”_

“Yes,” Alex sighs. “I mean, she thought I was straight when we met, so why would she…? We’re just friends. That’s it.”

 _“Well, you’ll never know if you don’t try. Especially since you’re so_ obviously _in love with her.”_ She’s teasing now.

“I am _not_ ,” Alex huffs. “Stop saying that.”

_“I’ll stop saying it when you stop being a chicken. Go. Ask her out. What’s the worst that could happen?”_

“Uh, she could _hear_ me?!”

 _“Alex,”_ Kara groans. _“Just go. Get the girl. Or I’ll come over there and kick your ass.”_

Alex snorts. “Like you could,” she says, grinning. She takes a deep breath and leans back in the bathtub. “I love you, you little romantic dork.”

 _“I love you, too,”_ Kara replies. “ _You big gay nerd.”_

Alex laughs and presses ‘End Call’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spot the pop culture references


	6. Forgetting to Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex makes a bold move

Alex Danvers is gay. At least, that’s what Maggie had gotten from their little conversation. Or, rather, from Alex’s ranting. And then their almost kiss…

Maggie feels her heart flutter in her chest at the thought. The phantom feeling of Alex Danvers’s nose rubbing against hers makes her bite her lip and shake her head. She looks at the bathroom door, which has been closed for the better part of ten minutes, and wonders what the hell Alex is doing in there.

Is she calling her fiancé to come pick her up? Maggie doubts it. From the way Alex had spoken about him, she doesn’t really think that their relationship will continue, in any regard. She feels bad for taking delight in that.

Maybe she’s speaking to her sister, Maggie thinks, as she starts to walk around the room, tidying up. She leaves Alex’s pizza where it is, in case she wants to finish it when she comes back out— _if_ she comes back out—and throws her own plate with crust in the garbage and washes out her glass. She stands at the sink long after the glass is clean, though, just taking deep breaths and thinking about what to do next.

She should probably take Alex to her sister’s place, if she doesn’t want to go home and face her fiancé just yet. She could give Alex her number, just in case…

 _In case of what?_ she thinks. The only reason Alex had needed her was to be a getaway driver. It’s doubtful that they’d spend much time together otherwise. After all, the woman is still confused about so many things and that’s not the kind of relationship that Maggie should be jumping into right now, is it? What if Alex…what if she _was_ asexual and aromantic? What if she realized that after they’ve been together for a month or two? What if she breaks Maggie’s heart, just like all the other women before her? Maggie doesn’t know if she could take that.

She already likes Alex Danvers _so damn much_ that it terrifies her and excites her all at the same time. She has never felt like this before and that’s enough for her to make up her mind; she will _not_ fall for Alex Danvers. She won’t.

The door to the bathroom opens and Maggie’s spine stiffens. She forces herself to remain staring down at the sink, her knuckles turning white as she grips the edge. She hears the soft padding of Alex’s socked feet as she comes closer. From the corner of her eye, she can see the taller woman holding out her cellphone and a bit of trepidation in the dark hazel eyes. She presses her lips together before opening her mouth as she stops right next to Maggie and leans her hip on the counter adjacent.

“Thanks,” Alex says, her voice a little rough. “For letting me use your phone. And for…well, everything else.” She laughs lightly, still holding out the phone, but Maggie doesn’t turn towards her. She barely breathes. “Maggie?” She prods her with the phone, almost teasingly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Maggie replies, clearing her throat. She makes a grab for the phone—still not looking at Alex—and her fingers wrap around the other woman’s wrist instead. Her eyes widen and she bites her lip, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks as her fingers seem to be burned by the feeling of Alex’s skin under her hand. She swallows thickly and turns her head slightly, finding Alex staring down at the place where their skin meets and blushing quite fervently. Alex swallows thickly and her eyes raise to meet Maggie’s, wide and confused and _so damn beautiful_.

Maggie clears her throat and looks back down, releasing Alex’s wrist and snatching her phone—probably too quickly—before placing it into her back pocket. “Thanks,” she says, her voice low and gravelly and far too emotional right now. She glances back up at Alex and feels the air leave her lungs at the way Alex is looking down at her lips, her eyes taking on a hungry look. Maggie can feel the way her heart skips a beat and her mouth goes dry as she finds herself turning fully, without her permission, and looking up into Alex’s eyes, which have returned to hers. They’re still hungry, still wanting, and Maggie’s hands itch to reach out, to run her hands through Alex’s hair, to cup her soft cheeks in her warm hands, to wrap around her waist and pull their bodies flushed together.

But she doesn’t. Because she promised herself she wouldn’t and she—surprisingly—has enough restraint to resist doing everything she wants to do. Even though it’s practically killing her to stay still, to look into Alex Danvers’s eyes like this and _not_ kiss her with everything she has.

But that doesn’t mean she has it in her to resist when Alex does what she wanted to do.

Alex Danvers takes charge as she cups Maggie’s cheeks in both hands and lowers her mouth to land, softly, on the shorter woman’s. Their lips barely brush and Alex pulls away for a second, as if expecting Maggie to pull back or slap her or push her away. Maggie does none of these things because it’s all she can do to keep standing when she’s feeling this weak in the knees. Alex waits for a long moment before pressing in again, her lips not parting until she feels Maggie’s begin to move against hers, because Maggie is strong and resilient but she’s not made of steel.

She rises on her tiptoes, pressing her lips more firmly against Alex’s, her hands burying themselves in her short hair, her skin singing where Alex’s fingers press against her lower back, her shirt riding up in the back and allowing their bare skin to brush. Maggie moans into Alex’s mouth and Alex gasps against her lips, her teeth teasing the bottom one and sending an arrow of pleasure down her spine. God, she’s never had a kiss like this. She’s never wanted to drown in somebody like this. She’s never quite fallen so hard and so fast and they’ve known each other less than a day, but Maggie is sure that she could spend the rest of her life kissing Alex Danvers.

Perhaps that’s what makes her finally pull back, extract herself from Alex’s arms, and press her fingertips to her kiss-swollen lips, her eyes as wide as Alex’s as they stare at each other, chests heaving. Alex swipes her tongue over her lower lip and Maggie fights to keep herself still, her eyes closing for a brief moment as she gathers herself.

“This,” she gasps, “should not be happening.”

“Why not?” Alex asks, furrowing her brows. She looks so upset and Maggie averts her eyes, because if she doesn’t then she’s going to pull her back into her arms and kiss that frown away. And she can’t do that…for reasons.

“Because you…you just came out,” Maggie says. “And only to me, you know? This is all so new for you and you shouldn’t…we shouldn’t be together _just_ because we’re both gay.”

“That’s not—”

“Wait,” Maggie says, putting up her hand. “There’s…you also have a fiancé. And he doesn’t really know why you ran out on him yet, does he?” Alex shakes her head. “So you have that you need to deal with. And I don’t want to be the person who gets in the way of that, you know?” She runs her hand through her curls, mussing them slightly. “I’ve just—I’ve been in a lot of relationships that didn’t work out because the woman I was with treated me like some dirty little secret they couldn’t share with their friends and family. I’ve found out that women I thought I was in love with still had boyfriends or husbands and I…I really can’t do that again, you know? I can’t be with somebody who’s ashamed to be with me, just because I’m a woman.”

“Maggie,” Alex said, her voice soft as she looked down at Maggie, reaching out to cup her cheek. Maggie stiffened and tried her best not to lean into the touch. “I’m not ashamed of you,” Alex says. “This is all new to me, that’s true, but I…I don’t think I could ever be ashamed of you.” She takes a deep breath. “Besides, I’ve already told my sister about you.”

Maggie’s eyes widen at that. “You have?” she asks.

Alex smiles shyly and nods. “Yeah,” she says. “That’s who I was talking to on the phone just now. I told her what happened and she…she accepts me.” Her smile turns to one of pride. “She told me to ‘go get the girl’ and that’s what I’m doing. Or, at least, that’s what I’m _trying_ to do, if you would let me.” She raises one eyebrow at Maggie and strokes her cheek with her thumb. “Or do you not like me?” Her face falls and she starts to move away, but then Maggie grabs her hand and pulls her back.

“I _do_ like you, Alex,” she assures her. “But I…I’m just scared that the only reason you like me is because you’ve suddenly realized that you’re a lesbian and I’m the only other one around. I mean, we barely know each other.”

Alex sighs, looking down. “I know,” she says. “I know that. But, I, um…do you know _why_ I ran out on Max?”

“Because you realized you didn’t love him,” Maggie says, with certainty. That’s what Alex had said before, isn’t it?

“Well, yeah,” Alex says. “But also, it’s because I looked out at the crowd this morning, when we were standing at the end of the aisle, and I locked eyes with this woman…” she smiles, blushing. “And I felt more for her in two seconds than I have _ever_ felt with Max. Or any man, really.” Now she’s looking back up into Maggie’s eyes and smiling softly. “It’s just my luck that she’s the florist for my not-wedding, huh?”

This time, it’s Maggie who can’t help herself. She takes a step towards Alex, throwing her arms around the taller woman’s shoulders, pulling her lips down to hers and moaning as Alex responds with enthusiasm. She knows that it’s probably a bad idea to be jumping into a relationship with a woman who has just realized something so big about herself, who has a fiancé worrying about her right at this second, who she’s only known for a few short hours, but she also can’t find it in herself to care very much about all that. Not when Alex Danvers’s lips are on hers and her arms are wrapped around Maggie’s waist, practically lifting her off her feet.

Maggie forgets to care.

* * *

 

Later, they’re sitting on Maggie’s couch, facing each other, their legs tucked up underneath them and their fingers brushing on the back of the couch. Maggie is giving Alex a dimpled grin with stars in her eyes and Alex is smiling back, blushing. They’ve been sitting here, like this, for five minutes now and neither of them has said a single word. Maggie is fighting the urge to kiss Alex again and she can only imagine that Alex is thinking the same from the way her eyes keep flitting down to Maggie’s lips. But they’d agreed to stop kissing and get to know each other a little more; see if a relationship really is the right move for them right now.

“So,” Maggie says, after a long while, tilting her head to the side, “when’s your birthday?”

“What is this?” Alex laughed. “20 Questions?”

“Why not?” Maggie replies. “What better way to get to know one another?”

Alex presses her lips together as the corners turn up in a grin. “April 10th,” she says, finally. “Yours?”

“March 26th,” Maggie informs her. “Not too far apart.”

“It would appear not,” Alex agrees, her middle finger stretching to stroke Maggie’s. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Wow, going deep, huh Danvers?” Maggie teases. Alex snorts. “I’ve always liked blue. Since I was a kid. Every shade of blue. But especially sapphire.”

“Adorable,” Alex comments and Maggie sticks her tongue out, making her chuckle. “Mine is purple.” She shrugs. “I don’t think I have a favorite shade, to be honest.”

“Really? I had you begged as more of a green girl.”

“You also had me pegged as straight.”

“Hey! So did you!” Maggie laughs, reaching forward to push at Alex’s shoulder as the other woman snorts. She rests her head on her arm as she gazes up at her. “First kiss?”

Alex wrinkles her nose. “Harrison Eichner.” She sticks out her tongue. “He smelled like wet grass.” Maggie laughs at that. “You?”

“Ellie Goode.” Maggie smiles softly and sighs. “She was a grade older than me and very hot.” Her face falls. “She told her boyfriend that _I_ kissed _her_ and he socked me in the eye.”

“Damn,” Alex sighs. “That sucks, Mags. I’m sorry.”

Maggie shrugs. “I got him back, though,” she says, grinning. “I took his high school crush to prom. Made out with her under the bleachers and…um, never mind.” She looks down, blushing at the frown that Alex is giving her. “It didn’t last, obviously,” she admits. “And I’m kind of glad it didn’t.” She reaches for Alex’s hand and pulls it to her lips. Alex turns bright red and clears her throat, but she doesn’t make a move to take her hand back.

“Have any siblings?” Alex asks.

“Three older sisters,” Maggie informs her, still grinning. “Lindsay, Angie, and Maura.”

“Aww, so you’re the baby?” Alex coos and Maggie snorts, pushing her hand away.

“Shut up,” she laughs. “That’s what they always say. I could kick their asses, though.”

“I’m sure you could,” Alex placates, reaching out to pat her knee. Maggie rolls her eyes.

“And I know you have a sister,” she says. “Any other siblings?”

“Nope,” Alex replies. “Just Kara. And Lucy…kind of.”

“Lucy?” Maggie asks. “Who’s Lucy?”

“Best friend since college,” Alex informs her. “Ooh, also Winn. He’s like a little brother. Only more annoying.”

Maggie laughs. “Sounds like a hoot,” she says. “Um…favorite movie?”

“Imagine Me & You.”

“You cannot be serious,” Maggie snorts.

“What? It’s a good movie!”

“Oh, I _know_ it’s a good movie,” Maggie says. “I’ve seen it _plenty_ of times. I just can’t believe you watched it and didn’t even realize that you’re gay.”

“I was a big fan of Piper Perabo, okay?”

“Ha, okay, Danvers,” Maggie laughs.

“Really!” Alex huffs, pinching Maggie’s thigh. “So what’s _your_ favorite movie?”

“Um…I have no idea, actually,” Maggie says. “I’ve seen the new _Ghostbusters_ an unhealthy amount of times, so maybe that?” She laughs and shakes her head. “I’m more into music.”

“Ooh, what’s your favorite band?” Alex asks.

“Bare Naked Ladies,” Maggie says. “Easy. Yours?” Alex’s eyes are wide. Maggie frowns at her. “What? What’s wrong?” she asks.

“N-nothing,” Alex says, shaking her head. “Just weighing the benefits of proposing right now.”

“What?” Maggie laughs, tilting her head.

“Bare Naked Ladies has been my favorite band since my Freshman year of college,” Alex informs her. Maggie’s eyes widen at that.

“Seriously?” she asks. “Wow, that’s quite a coincidence.”

“It’s fate,” Alex jokes, leaning in to press her lips to Maggie’s. Despite herself, Maggie couldn’t help but chuckle against Alex’s mouth, nipping at her bottom lip.

“Maybe,” she says, smiling up at Alex as she pulls away.

They stare at each other for a long time before Maggie clears her throat and looks down, still smiling slightly. “So,” she says, “what is your favorite place in the world?”

* * *

 

It takes everything in Alex to not say ‘right here’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this should be wrapped up in two chapters and then I will be moving on to my Grey's Supergirl AU (supercorp and sanvers centric), On Call.
> 
> You can also send me prompts for one shots and future Gay-U's @cassiebones on tumblr. My ask box is always open.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm doing a kind of variation on this, my favorite gay movie (first one I ever saw tbh) so you will get to be surprised a little.
> 
> Leave a comment and let me know what you think or message me on Tumblr at cassiebones
> 
> I also take prompts for future Gay-U's (Gay AU's; I know, I'm so clever)


End file.
